


After The Dark Curtain Rose

by EllaB



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaB/pseuds/EllaB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A distraught Castiel arrives at the bunker to mourn his Righteous Man, whom he was unable to protect from Metatron. What he finds sets up the newest Supernatural conflict. This is a post-Season 9 canon-verse oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After The Dark Curtain Rose

Castiel sank down into a chair in the bunker, his shaking legs and fading Grace unable to support him after Sam’s revelation. _Metatron was lying…Dean Winchester still lived_. He rubbed his face — a very human response to the prickling in his eyes.

“So…Dean is not dead.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Sam’s long legs folded into a crouch next to the shaking angel and he placed a hand gently on Castiel’s shoulder. “Not…exactly.”

Blue eyes snapped up and met the younger Winchester’s troubled gaze. “Where is he?”

“Cas, I…”

“Sam, _where is he_?” What was left of his dimming grace shone bright, and Sam couldn’t help but flinch. A minute flicker of the Winchester’s eyes answered Castiel’s question, and he shoved away from the table at once.

“No, Cas, wait…”

His attempts to stop Castiel were brushed aside as the angel ran — _RAN_ — to the bedroom where Dean had lain his head for the last year. Throwing open the door, he saw exactly what he had yearned to find the moment Sam had given him reason to hope.

Dean was sitting on the side of his bed, his head bowed and his back to the door. Seeing him upright and very much _not dead_ nearly made Castiel’s legs go out from under him again.

“Dean.”

The hunter’s head lowered more. “Hey Cas.”

Castiel’s face broke out into a smile, and he took a large step into the room, ignoring the smell of sulfur that indicated that Crowley had most likely paid a visit to the bunker recently.

“Sam?” Dean spoke quietly. “Can you give me and Cas a minute alone?”

The angel turned to see Sam fighting back tears, looking at the ground. “Sure thing.” Castiel tilted his head in confusion as Sam backed out of the room and closed the door with a quiet click.

“Dean?” He took a few more steps toward the hunter before Dean held up his hand, still turned away.

“Stay there, Cas.”

That certainly wasn’t want the angel expected, and perhaps it was his surprise that made him halt as requested. “You’re alive,” he said simply. “Metatron told me you were dead. He…he had an angel blade with your blood, and…I thought…” Castiel’s voice caught in his throat. “I thought…”

“I know.”

Cas took one more step forward. “But you’re here!” He wanted Dean to face him so he could savor the sight of his Righteous Man, whole and alive. “You’re okay!”

Dean laughed bitterly. “I’m pretty freakin far from okay, Cas.” He ran his hands through his hair, the Mark of Cain red and angry-looking on his skin.

Castiel wished his Grace were untainted, so he could heal the wounds Dean was suffering from. Perhaps he could have one of his sisters or brothers…

“I wish I were dead,” Dean’s whisper interrupted Castiel’s thoughts.

“What? Why would you say that?”

Dean’s hands left his hair and he stood, still keeping his back to Castiel. The smell of sulfur grew stronger and Cas’s nose wrinkled.

“Cas.” The hunter’s voice cracked as he finally turned. The smile that had started to form on the angel’s lips froze. _No, this couldn’t be_.

A dirty film of grey and black swirled around the normally resplendent Dean Winchester. “Your soul,” Cas choked. It was still there, brilliant blues and greens and silvers, but it was wrapped in taint, congested with an overlay of hellish disgrace. Castiel’s eyes roved his figure, starting with his endearingly bowed legs, blood-smeared torso, and ending with Dean’s green eyes, which were locked on him with fear and confusion. The hunter blinked and Cas couldn’t hold back his gasp as green was replaced by the darkest of black.

At once, Castiel crouched, his angel blade falling into his hands. “You get out of him, you son of a bitch,” he growled at the unknown demon that was taking residence in the beautiful form that Cas himself had knitted together and rebuilt with his Grace.

Dean made no move to attack Cas. Instead, he was frozen with an expression of wonder as he stared at Castiel. The inky smears choking his soul faded slightly, and a smile broke out on Dean’s face. Cas didn’t dare move as the hunter regarded him closely and with awe.

“Wow. I can see you, Cas,” he said softly. “I mean, I can really see you. Oh my God, you’re…wow, you’re fucking awesome!”

The angel didn’t drop his guard, but allowed his brows to furrow in confusion.

Dean’s voice was reverent. “Your _wings_ …” He stepped forward, his eyes wide and his hand reaching. “Beautiful…”

“I said ‘ _get out of him’_ ,” Castiel snarled, scared that he may have to hurt Dean’s body to exorcize this demon.

The older Winchester’s hand dropped, but his eyes never left Castiel. “No, it’s _me_ , Cas. There’s no demon. There’s just me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Dean sighed. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

The hunter stepped back, still looking at the angel. “You know Cain was a demon, right?” Cas nodded. “Well, he didn’t start out that way.”

Castiel relaxed slightly, but still clutched his blade tightly.

“He was a man, just like me, when he got the Mark. But…it changed him.” Dean paused, looking ashamed. “It changed me, too. I haven’t been myself…” He was silent for a moment.

“Dean?”

When he continued, his face looked grim. “Megatron did kill me, Cas. Drove an angel blade right into my chest. But the Mark wouldn’t let me go.”

Castiel, shocked, realized what he was saying, and he straightened slowly, dropping his blade with a clatter. “So you’re…”

“…a demon, yeah,” Dean finished for him. “Specifically, I’m a Knight of Hell now. Crowley came and introduced me all to this ‘new life’ of mine. It doesn’t sound like a walk in the park, let me tell you.”

Castiel’s jaw clenched in anger. “I’ll kill him,” he rasped, plans filing through his brain rapidly. “We can fix this, Dean.”

Despite the swirl of darkness around him, Dean looked at the angel with tenderness. “Still fighting for me, aren’t you, Cas?”

Castiel strode forward with purpose, fisting his hands in Dean’s soiled shirt and pulling him closer. “Of course. I will always fight for you, Dean. Until the last of my Grace burns out.”

Even with his orbs consumed by black, Castiel could see the despair in Dean. He already had a penchant for self-loathing…this new development would take it to a whole new level.

Sure enough, Dean confirmed it for Cas. “I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered. “How could I ever be worthy of anything ever again? I’m the monster I’ve hunted my entire life.”

Cas relaxed his grip on Dean’s shirt and cupped his face in his hands. “You’re not a monster. You’re _Dean Winchester_. You’re the Righteous Man. You taught me that I’m not just a soldier…and I know that you’re not just a demon.” It took him a few moments for the ferocity of his statement to ebb and for him to realize the position the two of them were now in. Dean ‘s eyes flickered to Castiel’s mouth and the angel remained still, scrutinizing his friend closely. If he ignored the inky eyes, Dean still looked like _his Dean_. Cas carefully grazed his thumb up the stubbled chin of the hunter and slowly across Dean’s lower lip, studying him. The angel’s mind was swirling but he was slowly finding clarity in the familiarity of Dean’s freckles. Unchanged. Dean raised his hands to hold onto the edge of Castiel’s jacket.

“Cas…” Dean whimpered, his eyes flashing back to green as he slowly, carefully leaned forward.

“As touching as this is, boys, I’m going to have to ask you to unhand my Knight, feathers” the cool voice appeared behind Castiel. Dean stiffened and Cas whirled around to shield the hunter from Crowley, who stood near the closed door.

“You!” Castiel bellowed and was only stopped from lunging forward by the hand that settled on his shoulder.

Crowley waved, a smirk on his face. “Good to see you too, Castiel.” And then to Dean, he said, “Come on…we have work to do.”

Dean’s fingers tightened on Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Crowley’s smile widened. “Yes you are.” He snapped his fingers, and the weight of Dean’s hand disappeared from behind Cas. The angel whirled around but Dean was gone.

Furious, Cas turned back toward the King of Hell. “Where did you send him?”

The demon king steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “Dean needs a bit of necessary training before I can take him out on missions with me. But I have high hopes for him, Castiel. High hopes.”

“I will find a way to stop this, Crowley.”

“You can try.”

“And I’ll succeed.” Castiel’s voice lowered to a growl. “And then I’m going to kill you.”

Crowley’s smile was lazy. “I look forward to it. Ta-ta for now.” And he was gone.

Castiel didn’t hesitate, striding toward Dean’s closed bedroom door and throwing it open.

“Sam,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Gather your hunter friends and I will go see my angel garrison. Crowley has the Righteous Man. We are going to war.”


End file.
